


ruin

by WhoTheBuckIsStucky



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Dark, Gun Kink, Guns, Heavy Angst, If you want some sweet sebaciel go elsewhere because I don't believe in it, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, One Shot, References to Depression, Smut, Violent Sex, also this.... degradation of mentality takes some damn time, because otherwise ciel would be a minor, by ciel i mean the one we've known not the older brother, like friends. this is not a fun and sweet read. there is no happy ending., see summary etc for further information, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-18 16:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoTheBuckIsStucky/pseuds/WhoTheBuckIsStucky
Summary: It's been years since the recent incidents in the manga. Ciel and his servants have escaped to France, but they can't do much else. They've been trapped, waiting for an opportunity to get back on track, but it hasn't come. As Ciel has more time to himself, with nothing to do, he has to begin to confront himself and his own humanity, and in that develops unhealthy feelings towards his butler.





	ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so uhhhhhh I hope that I'm in no way implying that Sebastian and Ciel are a good and healthy relationship. We can change their characteristics in fanfic all we want and that's totally cool and fine, but in reality/canon, Sebastian is Ciel's abuser. I'm simply exploring the idea that Ciel has convinced himself he loves Sebastian because he's the only person he feels he can trust. It's sort of common in abuse victims, especially since Ciel was so young when all his traumas began. Of course, Sebastian wouldn't love Ciel back, because he's a literal demon, so that's a fun dynamic. I just was struck with the concept that Ciel would be doing anything he could to distract from his failures, and an easy way for him to do that, while punishing himself for it, would be this--a one-sided relationship built entirely on lies and suspension of disbelief, with which he hopes he can fill a void in himself, even though he knows, deep down, that he can't. It's dark. Sorry.

Ciel cast a glance from his good eye out the window of the villa.  _ Ciel,  _ he thought to himself. It wasn’t his name, but he’d taken it years ago, and he hadn’t been able to bear bringing about more change that night when the real Ciel, his beloved older brother who he’d believed to be dead, had returned. Since then, he and his faithful servants had been on the run, from the real Earl of Phantomhive and Scotland Yard. They quickly made passage across the ocean and had entered France, and they’d stayed there ever since. 

 

It had been years, now. Ciel shifted his gaze from the skies, dusty orange as the sun set, to the calendar on this small desk before him. November was coming to a close, and his twentieth birthday was almost upon him. Finny, Mey-Rin, Baldroy, and Snake had all tried their best, year after year, to celebrate it for him, but it brought him no joy. Not when his twin, the boy with whom he shared that day, was still out there, and both a pain in his heart, and a threat. 

 

Especially not this year. This year would mark the ten-year anniversary of their shared kidnapping. For a long while Ciel had thought he was the only one who had walked away from it.

 

_ Ten years. Ten years of no progress. And Sebastian grows ever impatient. _

 

Sebastian. His loyal, tricky demon, his dog. He had been so clever to squirrel them all away here, in this villa in the lavender fields of Provence, to keep the funds from Ciel’s Funtom Corporation coming in so that they all wouldn’t starve. He couldn’t understand why his brother hadn’t had the company shut down. Maybe he had forgotten about it. Maybe, by some stroke of luck, he had been unable. But as the years passed, Ciel knew it was most likely a third option: he simply didn’t care. Perhaps it was because he thought he had beaten Ciel.

 

And perhaps he really had.

 

The days were long and short all at the same time. Ciel was consumed with a grey emptiness. Without his purpose, without the crime-riddled streets of London and the mysterious deaths, without any set plan for his revenge, Ciel felt his mind eating itself alive. It was boredom, but it was more than that. It was a desperate loneliness that Ciel hadn’t felt at that degree ever before in his life. He’d gotten it in small, diluted doses when he was younger, watching from the high windows as his brother played and laughed in the gardens below, and bigger, for the few shocking moments after the sacrifice, after his brother’s death, but nothing like this. Never like this. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it first set in. Perhaps it was from this feeling that his desire for Sebastian had sprung. Or perhaps it was that very desire, that had come around the same time with his jolting return to a more human grasp of emotion, that had brought this new depth of loneliness upon him.

 

Because either way, it was a feeling that could never be returned. Certainly, Ciel could order Sebastian to act like he cared about him, wanted him—and he did, more frequently than he would care to admit—but it would never be real.

 

Ciel knew Sebastian could sense the weakening of his spirit, of his soul. He knew it disgusted him. But a contract was a contract, and both of them were trapped. Where there had been perhaps a little respect, or maybe admiration, or at least anticipation, on Sebastian’s part, there was now nothing. He continued to fulfill his duties, but there was a more withdrawn nature to him. Ciel couldn’t blame him, couldn’t order him to take that away, so he said nothing. 

 

Perhaps if Ciel was a different person, he would have turned to drink, or drug, to try to right his emptiness. However, though his situation was pathetic, he couldn’t help but hold onto a shred of—what was it? Not hope, surely, something darker but still akin to the feeling. Denial, maybe. Because if he really had no way out of his situation, he had no idea how he would stay sane. Whatever the case, he couldn’t allow himself the damage either of the substances had the potential to do to his body, and, more importantly, his mind, in the event that they found a way out and could resume their quest of vengeance. 

 

And so it came to this. 

 

A knock came at his door. “Enter,” Ciel said without raising his head.

 

“Young master.” It was Sebastian. He had brought in a cart with Ciel’s evening tea. “It’s getting late.” He turned to light the candles around the room, closing the blinds sharply as he went. 

 

Ciel sighed, rising from his chair. “I am aware.” He padded towards his bed, taking a seat on the edge. Sebastian, having completed his circuit around the room, returned to his side, undressing him swiftly with quick and practiced hands, until he was just in his undergarments. He reached behind him to untie his eyepatch, laying it carefully on the bedside table.

 

“I’ll go draw you a bath.” The butler withdrew to the connected water closet, and shortly Ciel heard water running. He sighed, stepping out of the last of his clothes and making his way slowly to the bath.

 

“Wait,” he said, the word like a thorn in his throat. “The water will get cold. I want something first.” 

 

Sebastian turned the tap, making the handle squeak as he shut it off. “And what is it you want, young master?”

 

A buried rage flared up within Ciel, but died down as quickly as it came. “You know what I want.”

 

“I’m afraid I do not. I may be very capable, but I certainly cannot read minds.”

 

Ciel sighed. “I order you… to kiss me. Like you mean it.”

 

“And?” Sebastian asked, maddeningly because he  _ knew _ , taking a step closer.

 

“I order you to seduce me. Like you mean it. Like…” Ciel swallowed, swallowed shame and guilt and embarrassment and hopefully all his desperation along with it. “Like you actually want me.”

 

“Very well.” Sebastian removed his gloves, draping them smoothly over the side of the barely-filled tub. He reached for one of Ciel’s hands and Ciel let him take it, repressing a shiver at the touch. Still, after all this time, he couldn’t quite be sure if it was a shiver of lust or fear. But he knew Sebastian couldn’t hurt him, not in any way he didn’t want him to. The demon drew him close, until Ciel saw himself reflected in the slits of his red eyes. The room seemed to grow dimmer. Sebastian stretched his mouth into a smile, and Ciel caught a glimpse of his particularly sharp canines. He bent his head, slotting his lips against Ciel’s, kissing him as he had been ordered. “Like that?” he asked, breaking away.

 

“Yes,” Ciel whispered back, bringing Sebastian’s head back down to kiss him again. It irked him so that, though he had grown more since his early teenage years, Sebastian still had a few centimeters on him. He stumbled backward with this kiss, pulling both of them back into the main bedroom. Sebastian broke the kiss when they were a few feet from the bed, taking advantage of his supernatural strength and throwing Ciel onto it. Ciel gasped as his back hit the cool sheets, letting himself lie limp as Sebastian undressed.

 

Sebastian slunk on top of him, from the shadows of the room—somehow, when Ciel wasn’t watching, he’d put out all the candles, probably with a snap of his fingers. His slender fingers gripped Ciel’s hair, making a tight fist and making Ciel’s scalp sear. He grit his teeth against a groan. Sebastian used this grip to tilt his head back, to bite at his neck until he drew a tiny bit of blood before continuing on downward. Ciel was trying his best to remain still and unbothered beneath him, but how could he, when this is what he always wanted, when this was the only thing that let him feel anything,  _ anything,  _ these days? Sebastian ignored his cock, curled slightly against his lower abdomen and leaking precome, and instead moved to his ass, spreading the flesh and giving himself easier access to the pink hole between. 

 

“Is this what you want, young master?”

 

“Yes,” Ciel said, still through gritted teeth. “Use some oil this time, though, maybe.”

 

“I shall.” Sebastian reached behind him and produced a bottle out of thin air. Or perhaps he had been expecting this. Either option was equally likely with the demon, and Ciel didn’t have the time to ponder the point. Sebastian pressed a slicked finger into Ciel’s hole, and Ciel closed his eyes, focusing on stopping his hips from moving. As soon as he was adjusting to the first finger, the demon added a second. He pumped them in and out of Ciel for a while, and Ciel let him shift his body up and down atop the sheets, bending his knees and spreading his legs further to keep them out of the way. 

 

Sebastian curled his fingers slightly at the end of a deep thrust, and brushed the bundle of nerves within Ciel that set his body aflame. He couldn’t hold back a true moan this time, feeling his skin heat, and the void in his chest expand. Sebastian pressed his free hand against Ciel’s throat, choking him, and he didn’t struggle. He wheezed as Sebastian added a third finger and began thrusting faster, still curling his fingers each time to milk Ciel’s prostate while he still had the precision that his fingers allowed him.

 

Sebastian removed his hand from its grip around his throat. “How’s that, young master?”

 

Ciel opened his eyes, making sure the eye with the contract seal burned. “Harder,” he spat.

 

Sebastian planted the hand that wasn’t inside Ciel next to his head, looming over him and going faster, no longer curling his fingers and letting the raw pain inundate Ciel’s senses instead. Ciel gasped and writhed beneath him, involuntarily, giving into the pain. 

 

Suddenly, it all subsided, and Ciel felt the thick head of Sebastian’s cock straining against his entrance. The demon wasted no time, pushing in roughly and setting a fast pace. As tension built in Ciel’s stomach, another piece of his rotten soul dripped away. He watched Sebastian through his lashes, vision blurred.  _ Sebastian can’t mind this so much,  _ he thought.  _ The crudeness might normally be against his aesthetic, despite how many of his colleagues act. But as he’s following orders from his contractee, it probably suits him nicely.  _

 

_ Besides,  _ Ciel added to himself, watching as the demon’s eyes turned nearly to slits in his—what, concentration? Pleasure?  _ He knows that this is really just another way for me to hurt myself, in the end, even if I request it.  _ Because that’s what it was, gratuitous self harm because he had nothing else to do. 

 

“You’re lacking today,” Ciel said cuttingly. “Be rough. Leave marks. Just don’t do any lasting harm.”

 

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian pulled out and flipped Ciel onto his stomach, then pushed back in without warning. He forced his face into the mattress, rutting into his ass harshly. Ciel let his eyes roll back in his skull, glad for the distraction to numb everything within him. Glad for the distraction from all the numbness. He could barely breathe; his chest constricted, but even the fear of an asthma attack wouldn’t stop him. His cock pulsed, trapped between his stomach and the covers, and he moaned again as Sebastian dug his nails into his shoulder.

 

Still, it wasn’t enough. Ciel turned his head to the side. “You can do better than this,” he accused, hoping it would goad the demon into being crueler.

 

He wasn’t disappointed. Sebastian flipped him back over once more, probably for the fear and shock factor of having to see, and pulled a gun, the very one that Ciel kept on his bedside table, from behind Ciel’s head. Ciel heard the safety click off, and the cool metal was pressed to his temple. Ciel trembled, more near convulsing than anything, at the danger, at the suggestion of his own death, planned for years by the demon that was holding the gun and also fucking him, ruthlessly, all just the way he commanded. 

 

“Is that enough for you, young master?” Sebastian all but snarled. “Violent enough?"

 

Ciel couldn’t find the words to reply, reveling in the sharp pangs of pain as the barrel of the gun smacked against his skull with each stroke of Sebastian’s hips.  _ Violent _ , Ciel thought, dizzy with his fear and the pain and the undeniable pleasure, and beneath all of that, still, the gaping emptiness always threatening to swallow him whole.  _ Violent.  _ Everything he felt was violent, even the nothingness. He had no idea if these exploits staved off the void, the empty hole both within and around him, or if they made it all worse. He didn’t care, couldn’t, not now, not when his whole world was the thick cock that he dreamt of too many nights and the cool steel of a gun, his favorite weapon, clashing with the side of his head, and the faint hope that all this  _ violence  _ would one day soon either cure him of this sickness of the mind, this madness, or consume him completely.

 

His vision blackened. He found his throat was hoarse, and realized it was because he had been screaming, short shouts of agony and desire, mixed and garbled in the back of his mouth. Sebastian leaned forward to kiss him, likely because he had tired of the noise, biting down on Ciel’s lower lip and forcing Ciel’s head down into the pillows under it. The bed frame creaked with each movement. Sebastian’s thrusts became more erratic, at faster and faster a pace, and then he ripped himself away, pushing Ciel down onto the floor and dangling his straining cock before Ciel’s abused lips.

 

Ciel took it willingly, and Sebastian gripped the back of his head and fucked his throat, rough and uncaring. Tears streamed, unbidden, down Ciel’s cheeks as he fought back a gag reflex, waiting until Sebastian had come, swallowing it all down, all the while with the gun,  _ his  _ gun, pointed at his head.

 

“I haven’t forgotten you,” Sebastian said, seeming only slightly winded from the whole ordeal, helping Ciel back up onto the bed with suspiciously gentle hands. He put him on his hands and knees this time, ass up in the air in elbows bent. Ciel hung his head, resting it against his forearms, strands of hair soaked with sweat leaving beads of it along his wrists. He felt something cold against his entrance, and then it was inside him. He realized with a jolt that it was his gun. 

 

He cried out, unable to stop himself. “Fuck!” He rocked his hips back until he felt the turn of the grip hit his tailbone. “Finish it, then,” he growled to Sebastian.

 

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian replied, ever unaffected, ever infuriatingly slow and calm. He took a hold of one of Ciel’s hips, shoving the gun in and out, brutally, and Ciel loved it. He hoped he bled. He hoped he would wake up sore and punished for this, for this wanting, for his weakness, his loneliness. 

 

Ciel was panting. He curled his fist around the pillow before him until his knuckles turned white. With this anchor, Sebastian freed his hip and instead wrapped his hand around Ciel’s neglected cock, jerking him off with lightning-fast strokes, not letting him even think about breathing, and Ciel found his entire body tightening and he pitched forward with a scream into the pillow, shaking as he spent himself on the sheets. 

 

Sebastian carried him, swiftly and lightly, to the bath, and let the water run, let Ciel soak blankly as he cleaned up the bedding. He scrubbed Ciel down, taking care not to rub his skin raw. The contrast between the two duties, the two treatments, was extreme, and Ciel, had he had more energy, might have laughed. 

 

But right now his body was as broken as his mind. He let Sebastian do all the work, let himself be dressed and put to bed. He forgot all about the tea. Sebastian lit a single candle on his way out, and then closed the door behind him with a sharp click.

 

As Ciel spiraled down into a deep, dark sleep, he couldn’t help an overwhelming feeling of loss from creeping over him. He was as hollow as ever. The feelings were there,  _ god _ , they were there, plaguing him and constricting his heart, but they were overtaken by a roaring silence, a muffling fog that folded itself over his senses, snaked around his ears and his fingertips. It was always there, feeding off the corrupt stain in his soul, like dark circles under his eyes, like a blanket of exhaustion trapping him, unable to let go of the past, unable to move forward with his future.

 

As if he had one.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading fasndflskdfj. Let me know what you think!! I don't think there will be much more to this. It was just a thought I wanted to explore. 
> 
> Most of you reading this probably have no fuckin clue who I am, as my following is primarily built from my kpop fics. If that's your thing, go ahead and check them out. They're all written in a much lighter tone than this one. You can find me on tumblr [here](http://www.suhos-loveshot.tumblr.com/ask) if you want to yell at me there about anything. If you want to support me monetarily (please don't feel pressured I just put this in case anyone has the desire!! It would be nice, of course, as I'm a struggling college student, but please do not feel obligated at all. I'm chillin. I'm fine.), you can do so [here](https://ko-fi.com/N4N47MXU). 
> 
> But yeah! I might write more kuro in the future, seeing as it's been in my life for years and years. let me know!


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